From Death's Door
by Pirate-Poet
Summary: Riddles come and riddles go. The daughter of death brings life, and the son of despair brings hope. Voldemort's Daughter. DracoOC
1. Captive

**Summary: Riddles come and riddles go. The daughter of death brings life, and the son of despair brings hope. Voldemort's Daughter. Draco/OC **

**Disclaimer: **

**Draco: The author in no way claims to own this story or its characters. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Re: Yeah, yeah. rub it in my face. But I do own Kyra! So meh. Sue me. That was in no way meant as an invite for someone to sue me, because you can't prove anything!**

**From Death's Door,**

**Chapter One:**

Kyra was very different from any of the other girls at the orphanage. These differences were mostly on secretarial records, like that she was allergic to onions and bananas, she had lived at the orphanage since birth, and she was currently the longest standing resident of that particular London orphanage. Kyra was very proud of this amazing feat. Any potential future parents had to go through her very particular and insane standards to be considered worthy of her presence. Needless to say, after five minutes with any person insane enough to consider adopting the thirteen year-old, they decided to look for a more serene child.

Serenity was one of the things that one would never really expect around the girl outside a library. Even then, if the book couldn't hold her attention, mayhem would follow. Thankfully, she was an attentive reader. However, when she wasn't with her books, it wasn't pretty.

The radio was her best friend. Kyra would play the most god-awful music at top volume on her radio, while listening to much better music on her CD-set. It was routine for Mrs. Jones to walk into Kyra's room every hour or so just to unplug said radio.

Mealtimes were different, Kyra being the first orphan on record to ever start three food fights in consecutive meals.

The people who had worked at the orphanage over the years often became exasperated at Kyra's antics. By the age of seven, however, most people became used to her. The drastic improvements in psychological exams of the kids who came to the orphanage after Kyra turned five were mostly credited to the girl. Nobody could really dwell on horrific pasts while trying not to get hit by mashed potatoes, or walk through the wrong door, now could they?

So over the years, instead of trying to improve Kyra's behavior, the staff took it all in good fun. There were regulations to her "fun", however. Anything hazardous to one's health, illegal, destructive, or involving food was strictly off Kyra's "fun" menu.

Around the time Kyra discovered books and stories, she started to wonder what her story was. How had she come to the orphanage in the first place? Was her mum kidnapped by a dragon, and her dad killed trying to rescue her mother? Was she mysteriously left on the step of the orphanage door? Her curiosity was far from satisfied.

Her mother turned up at a London hospital one night, in the middle of labor. She was rushed to a room, and her mother's nurse left to go find a doctor. When the nurse returned with the doctor in tow, Kyra's mother was dead. Kyra was told that the electrical equipment had been going haywire when the doctor came in. Soon enough, however, Kyra was delivered. The doctor himself named her Kyra Anne. Her last name was given to her on a guess basis. Kyra's mother had only one piece of paper to identify her. The note, short and worn from age, had been a letter from a man named Tom Riddle, who was then assumed as Kyra's father.

So Kyra Anne Riddle was born, and soon came to live at the orphanage, where she grew up.

Kyra actually loved her name. Riddle was her favorite part. She enjoyed thinking that it described exactly what she was, a challenging riddle to be solved. Her name never let her down.

**The place that shall not be named,**

**England:**

THE Dark Lord Voldemort, he who must not be named, the definition of "dark evil wizard", was almost beside himself with anger. Although, I don't think the people who wrote most dictionaries knew that there even was a dark lord wizard, but you can never tell.

Anyway, he was beside himself with anger. Like I said. Actually, that could be taken very literally... I'm off topic again, aren't I?

Why was he so mad? Three words: Kyra Anne Riddle.

**The Orphanage,**

**London:**

It was a warm day in August, when her extremely twisted tale finally caught up to her. Her fourteenth birthday was coming up, and she was becoming more excited by the day.

Kyra hopped up three of the four flights of stairs. At the top of the third, Kyra opened the door on the left, into her shared room. The only other girl sharing the room with her at the moment was Susan, a sweet, if quiet girl. But, then again, losing one's parents could do that to a person.

Susan was sprawled across her bed reading, and gave Kyra a nod of acknowledgment before returning to her book. Kyra sighed slightly, picking up her CD player that lay on top of her pillow. Putting the headphones on, she turned the volume down a bit, starting the CD, and picking up her homework.

The CD was a mix of MP3's that one of the boys- she forgot who- had made for her. They were all pretty good, actually. The homework, however, wasn't your normal homework. Kyra and the other orphans were home-schooled, with separated age classes. Kyra had a class unto herself, because she was almost fourteen, and the closest person to her age was Susan, who was thirteen.

As the second song began, she sang along a bit, knowing Susan wouldn't care. Years of having her own room, except for every once in awhile, like now, had allowed her privacy, and along with that, a bad habit of singing along to her favorite songs.

Susan looked up from her book, her scrutinizing gaze taking in the skinny, black haired girl, unnoticed. _Yes... this was the one._

Susan extracted herself from her bed and left Kyra alone in the room.

But not for long.

Kyra was almost startled when the door to her room banged open. The woman there wasn't one she recognized- but she was dressed very oddly... Was that a _cloak?_

And in a breath- or a word, on the mysterious woman's part- Kyra's world went black.

When Kyra came to, she couldn't tell whether it was day, night, or whether her eyes were open or closed. All she knew was that her whole body ached, and an unfamiliar sick feeling caused her the want to throw up.

She lay there for some time, battling her stomach, wondering where she was, what time it was, if she had been missed, but most of all, _who was that woman?!?!?!_

And it was just as suddenly as she asked herself this question that she thought, '_The world may never know' _with a derisive snort_ - _yeah... she definitely hit her head on something.

Kyra tried to sit up with a soft groan. Well, she groaned in her head. Somehow she just couldn't manage to make a sound. She tried to yell, but her mouth just wouldn't emit the sound.

As she lay there, on the floor, unable to move or speak, despite that she couldn't feel any obstacles preventing her from doing such, she almost felt her mind go into a full panic. She was frozen, speechless, and more so, she had no idea where the hell she was. It was like one of her repeating childhood nightmares, and she willed herself to wake up. WAKE UP. _WAKE UP, DAMN IT!!!!!_

But she wouldn't wake up. And Kyra realized that this was very much real. Then she took the time to breathe in, breathe out, calmly, and push her fears back down. There was plenty of time for panicking... later. After she figured out how to escape.

Unable to move her head, Kyra looked around the room for any light... anything at all. A vent, maybe. or the crack under a door. The complete blackness of the room met her eyes, as far as she could see, with a mocking _Yeah, right, like I'd make it THAT easy!_

Now reason met her... ears...?

_HOLD IT! _her brain yelled at her. _You can't move, can't speak... but nothing is stopping you! It's just your mind!_

Kyra took another calming breath, realizing that her mind was right. This was all her. She could move if she wanted to.

She tried to move her arm, but it was firmly pinned to her side. She gritted her teeth (At least those weren't frozen) and willed her arm to move.

It didn't.

Again, she tried to move the offending limb, concentrating solely on moving. '_MOVE! '_ She thought to her arm, viciously.

Her wrist twitched.

This time, she tried to fling her arm out in front of her, and was satisfied when it worked like it normally should. She flexed her toes, then ankles, and then she sat up, with a whispered "Take that!"

She pushed herself off the floor, (stone, she noted) and glanced around. She couldn't see anything, it was completely dark. Not the dark you get when you turn off all the lights, but the dark you get when you're locked in a completely sealed off room, no windows, no doors, with no source of light. She waved her hand in front of her face experimentally. Nothing. She couldn't see anything, but she felt a puff of air brush across her face.

Kyra walked slowly forward. She guessed it was about ten to fifteen feet before her hand touched a wall. It wasn't a rough, wooden wall, or bricks, or cement. It was stone. Completely smooth _stone_.

She ran her hands along the wall- again, about ten feet- until she felt a corner. She ran her hand down the next wall, about twenty feet. Then the next, and the next, until she guessed she was about where she had started. No doors.

Kyra knew, that there was no way she was trapped in a room that had no entrance. It just wasn't possible. _A trapdoor? The question is... is it in the ceiling, or the floor?_

Only one way to find out.

She felt for a corner, and bent down, carefully running her hands, side by side, across the floor to the next corner. She then carefully placed her left hand at the base of her right, then moved her right hand down next to her left, and repeated the process across the room. Again and again, she ran her hands along the floor, until her feet hit the opposite wall. _Nothing in the floor._

How was Kyra supposed to see if there was a trapdoor in the ceiling? She reached up and stretched as far as she could, but nothing other than cool air and darkness met her fingers. She balanced herself against the wall, on her toes, and tried again, still nothing. _Shoes!_

She slid her feet out of her shoes, and flipped them over, standing on the stiff heel and stretching as far as she could. She was again disappointed to find that there was nothing within the reach of her fingertips.

Now she took inventory of what she had with her, carefully slipping her shoes back on in the darkness. _Okay, shirt, jeans, socks, tennis shoes._ She checked her pockets. _Gum wrapper- I think- umm... coin... leaves... feather. Well, better than nothing._

She slipped her shoes back off again, put one on top of the other, and carefully stretched to try to find the ceiling, again. Her fingers brushed cold stone. _YES!_ She mentally cheered. Stepping down, she tied her shoes together, the way you find shoes in a shoe-box. The heels of each against the toes of the other. This made a pretty solid object to step on, and she carefully searched the ceiling the way she searched the floor, but the process was painstakingly slow. More than once, she had to stop and stretch her aching back, careful to not let herself cramp up. That was just what she needed, to be a hostage in pain.

When she was done searching the ceiling, her logical, reasonable self screamed. There was nothing. Not a crack, crevice, small unexplained hole... just yards of smooth, unchanging stone.

_Now... where is that woman... and what does she want with me?_

**Okay, so there's the revised first chapter. It's combined with the original second chapter of the story. Some of this is completely unchanged, so to those of you who had to re-read parts, I'm sorry! Oh, and if you see any typos, please tell me where they are. I did look through this a second time, but I tend to miss things. **

**Review please!**


	2. Severus Snape

**Summary: Riddles come and riddles go. The daughter of death brings life, and the son of despair brings hope. Voldemort's Daughter. Draco/OC**

**Disclaimer:**

**Draco: The author in no way claims to own this story or its characters. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Re: Yeah, yeah. rub it in my face. But I do own Kyra! So meh. Sue me. That was in no way meant as an invite for someone to sue me, because you can't prove anything!**

**From Death's Door,**

**Chapter Two:**

Severus Snape was not a man of many colors, in a literal sense. In the figurative sense of the phrase, the man made rainbows look black and white. The man was complex in ways that even Dumbledore had taken time to figure out. Snape knew where his loyalties were, and that was all that mattered.

At least, he tried to content himself with that knowledge.

It was hard to know that on either side of the fence, he wasn't fully trusted. Each side had pretty even odds on the man, come to think of it. He certainly would never trust anyone like himself, but then again, he was invaluable. Each side thought he was their spy, and even though neither side would admit it, they both needed him to be loyal to them.

Snape's inner cynic snorted as he navigated the brightly lit corridors under what used to be the predecessor to Diagon Alley. That was before Grindewald rose to power. Even after decades, the magical community wasn't keen to reclaim the land as their own, but no matter. The Dark Lord had uses for it.

Which is what had brought him here in the first place, removal of a prisoner. He didn't particularly care to know why he was bringing a teenage girl to the Dark Lord. Dumbledore told him that he had to do what he had to do to be trusted. _Of course I'm always stuck with the dirty work. _

But that was his job, and he knew it. Besides, if the girl was caught by the Dark Lord once, she couldn't possibly have a chance. Especially because she was a muggle.

The end of the corridor was more dimly lit than the beginning. The stone wall, however, was beautiful, with detailed carvings covering most of it. Severus ran his fingers over it. The wall into Diagon Alley would never hold a candle to this one, he was sure of that. Resignedly, he pulled out his wand and tapped a series of ten symbols, and stood back as an archway replaced the wall.

He stepped through the new opening and was startled when something hit his nose.

**- With Kyra -**

No matter the situation, Kyra easily got bored. She wasn't stupid. She understood that she was in danger, but she figured she could entertain herself. Who could it hurt? _Well, other than herself._ Honestly, she didn't care at all about possible consequences.

Kyra untied her left shoe and pulled out the lace. She stood to dig the coin out of her pocket, and then tied the shoelace tightly around it. Somehow, the sound of the coin hitting the wall as she threw it gave her a small sense of satisfaction.

It was while she was doing this that Severus activated the archway leading to the stone room. Kyra, having the luck that she did, chose that exact part of the wall to hit with her coin. Though she didn't notice that an archway opened in the wall, (her eyes were used to the dark by this point in time) she did notice the difference in sound when the coin next struck. This time, she was positive she didn't hit the wall, because walls just didn't grunt.

Snape lit his wand and held it up. The face of the stunned teenager was enough to cause him a short mental chuckle, but both Kyra and Snape quickly recovered.

"Uhmm... sorry," Kyra muttered, bending over to re-lace her shoe, and stuffing the coin in her pocket. "Cool stick. How did you get it to glow?"

"Magic," Snape drawled. "You're supposed to come with me." He looked her over discreetly. He had expected to the girl to be stunned or something, but that just goes to show how stupid some of the Dark Lord's followers could be.

Kyra rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's nice. While I'm following you, do you mind if I pester you with completely stupid questions about who you are, why I'm here, and where we're going?" her words were sickeningly sweetened.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. This is why he hated kids. "Why not?"

"Cool!" Kyra skipped out of the room, then turned around. "Aren't you coming?"

Snape followed her, knowing that he wasn't going to like what the next few minutes of walking had in store. Smart man, really.

Kyra appeared to be taking everything in. When the door melted back into a wall, she was still walking backward. She watched it in shock. "Do walls do that often?"

Snape looked over his shoulder. "Yes"

"Oh," Kyra decided that then would be a good time to turn around. She noticed that the black-haired man had put away his stick. "So what's with the torches?"

"They give this place some light."

"I could have told _you_ that. Ugh. So who are you?"

"Severus Snape."

Kyra didn't say anything for a moment. "Weird name," she paused for another second. "So why am I here?"

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you."

"So I guess that's where we're going, then. So who's this 'Dark Lord' guy, and what does he want with me?"

"He's a wizard, and I don't know."

Kyra gave Snape a weird look. "You've got to be kidding me."

Snape stayed silent, and gave her a serious look.

"Oh, great. So either you aren't kidding me, and I'm about to go see some kind of evil wizard trying to take over the world, or you're a complete lunatic. Either way isn't going to be good."

"I would assume not."

"Well if it helps, you don't sound like a lunatic."

"Nice to know."

"Anti-social, maybe, but that's not really a big deal. Unless of course you're a teacher or a waiter or a salesperson."

"Hm."

"You're a teacher, aren't you?"

Snape shot a quick look at Kyra. "Yes." and then he resumed looking straight ahead.

"You must run a tough class then, because most kids would crack under a very serious person teaching."

Snape almost grinned at that. Of course he knew that.

"Then again, you could just take sadistic pleasure in watching them fail or something. It would make sense, given this whole 'Dark Lord' deal."

"Hm."

"You're not chatty, are you?"

"No."

"But you are listening to every word I say."

"I find that annoying things are hard to ignore."

"Works out great for me, then. I mean, why wouldn't I want to annoy a man probably escorting me to my doom?"

"Hm."

"You are escorting me to my doom, then. Great."

"Probably."

Kyra sighed. "Well, I guess it was too much to hope that I would live a long life and die as an old woman lecturing some kid about not riding bikes on the sidewalk."

"Hm."

"Should I sing a happy song now to lighten the mood?"

"No, you should probably shut up now."

"Why's that?"

"Because we're here."

"Oh. Nice meeting you."

"Hm." Snape flicked his wand at the stone wall, and as it opened into a doorway, he gestured for Kyra to enter before him. Kyra skipped into the room like she had no idea what was in store. Of course, she probably didn't.

**Okay, so the re-write of chapter two is completely new. Yes, I love Snape. He's just awesome. So, anyway. Please review! Thanks for reading! Oh, yeah. I know this chapter isn't extremely long or anything, but the next chapter will be. **


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